Chapter 9
Kathy lived in a ten-year-old single-wide trailer with a stand-alone garage on an acre of land in the northeastern area of Columbus, Georgia. It's secluded and peaceful just the way she loved to live.
Parked next to the stand-alone garage was Kathy's 1995 Ford F-250 blue pickup truck with two front tires that were completely bald.
The garage door was open, and by the door, Kathy worked on an older Harley Davidson Sportster motorcycle with leather saddlebags. By Kathy's side were wrenches, old spark plugs, and old spark plug wires. Her hands are greasy as she installed a new spark plug wire on the Sportster's engine.
Joey walked up to her with bottled water in hand just as she stood up. Joey handed her the water bottle.
She grabbed it with a smile, then opened it up and took a gulp.
"Do you like living out here in the country?" Joey asked then he took a sip of water.
"Yeah. Nobody bothers me out here," Kathy responded.
"Nice place," Joey said while he scanned her property over.
"Wally helped me pay for it. Ever since our parents died, he's was always there bailing me out when I got in trouble," she said.
"I sure miss the time I had at UIC with him," Joey said with a smile as he remembered those good old days.
She handed the water bottle back to Joey and got on the Sportster. She turned on the ignition, and it started right up. Kathy was proud of herself.
"She's good as new," Kathy told Joey. She turned off the Sportster and got off.
Joey looked intimidated at the Harley, and Kathy noticed. She looked Joey over and wondered if he would survive out there on his own. Especially when he looked like that. But she thought he cute. He had a kind heart, and if Wally had him as his best friend, well, he must be special, she thought. She had an idea that would work with him hiding.
"We need to make sure you blend in on the Sportster," she told Joey.
Joey didn't have a clue what she meant by that comment.
Kathy took Joey by the hand and walked him to her trailer.
Inside her trailer forty minutes later, Kathy and Joey entered the living area from the hallway. He wore jeans and a Harley Davidson tee shirt, and his head was shaved completely bald.
"I feel so naked," he said as he rubbed his bare scalp.
She rubbed his head and looked him over.
"You look cool. But you still need one more addition to make this work," she said.
Kathy smiled as she grabbed Joey's hand. He wasn't sure he was going to like this new addition.
She walked him to the door, and they exited.
She walked him over to her Wide Glide where she grabbed the two helmets and handed Joey on. She placed the helmet on her head.
Joey placed his helmet on his head.
She got on her Wide Glide.
"Where we going?" he asked.
"You need this if you want to avoid the cops," she said.
Joey got on the back of her Wide Glide.
She started it up and drove off towards her driveway.
Thirty minutes had passed, and Kathy and Joey were inside a Columbus tattoo parlor. The walls were filled with examples of hundreds of available tattoos for any part of your body.
Joey sat in a chair, pale face, with a half-completed tattoo of an Eagle on his forearm.
The male tattoo artist sat on a stool by Joey.
He started up his needle again.
Joey fainted and slid down the chair.
The tattoo artist looked at Kathy. "He did it again," the artist said frustrated. "Should I call it quits?" he asked.
"Finish it. Having half an eagle on his forearm would look stupid," she instructed him.
The tattoo artist picked Joey up and plopped him back in the chair.
Kathy held Joey by his tee-shirt while the tattoo artist continued on Joey's tattoo.
Twenty minutes later, Joey was still fainted in the chair, but the tattoo artist turned off his needle, as he completed Joey's Eagle tattoo.
He reached down in his toolbox and removed an ammonia inhalant packet.
He opened it up and waved it under Joey's nose. Joey woke up.
Joey looked at Kathy and the tattoo artist in a daze. Then he realized what happened and he blushed.
"I feel like a jerk for fainting," Joey said embarrassed.
Kathy felt sorry for Joey. "You'll be surprised how many tough bikers faint when they get tattoos," she said to make him feel better.
The tattoo artist looked surprised that Kathy made such a comment.
She winked at him. He understood and looked at Joey.
"Oh yeah. Some of the biggest ones fall flat to the floor," the tattoo artist said following Kathy's bluff.
Joey felt better. He looked at his Eagle tattoo. "Cool," he said as he admired his new ink.
An hour later, in Kathy's yard, Joey sat on the Sportster she tuned up. Kathy stood near him like a father who watched over his young child during their bicycle training episode.
"Give it a little gas while you let out on the clutch," Kathy told him.
Joey twisted the throttle just a little too much and released the clutch a little too fast. The Sportster lunged forward, stalled and fell over.
Kathy chuckled. "Try it again," she encouraged.
He got back on the Sportster, inhaled a deep breath.
He started it up and gave it some gas.
The Sportster jerked and stalled.
Joey and the Sportster fell over.
Joey got up and kicked the Sportster.
He got it upright and got back in the saddle. He looked determined as he started it up.
Thirty minutes later, Joey drove the Sportster and weaved all over the place.
He fell over. He got the Sportster upright and got back on.
He drove the Sportster, and it weaved all over the place then a miracle happened – he drove in a straight line and didn't fall over.
Twenty minutes later, Joey, had dirt stains all over his pants, shirt, and face. He was looking like a biker as he drove the Sportster in circles.
He drove it in a straight line.
He drove in circles again.
Kathy watched from the yard. "Go, Joey!" she cheered out loud.
Joey looked proud as he drove circles around Kathy like an Indian circling the wagons.
Down in Valdosta, Georgia, the sun dropped to the west as evening approached.
Howard lived in a red brick ranch house on two acres of land in the country five miles north of Valdosta. His Peterbilt was parked in the grassy area off his dirt driveway and looked shiny as he washed it earlier in the afternoon.
A new Chevy Silverado pickup truck was parked in front of Howard's stand-alone garage.
On his front porch, Howard sat in a wooden rocking chair while he listened as the birds sang and he sipped on a Miller beer. He was glad he had two-weeks to relax at home as his trips on the road were wearing him down.
A Georgia State Patrol car drove down Howard's dirt driveway.
Howard saw the cop car from his front porch and stood up concerned.
The car stopped and turned off its engine.
Bob Walker got out of the car. Howard looked relieved but curious. "Bob, what brings you here?" Howard asked, thinking he was in trouble.
Bob walked up to Howard's front porch.
"That kid you had with you this morning at the truck stop," Bob said when he approached Howard.
"You mean Ian Moody from Florida?" Bob asked.
"That's the guy," Bob responded.
"What's the interest in him?" Howard said curiously.
"Apparently, he robbed a bank in Orlando and was on the lamb," Bob told Howard.
Howard thought about what Bob said for a few seconds, and he didn't like it.
"Not Ian. No way. He's a good kid," Howard said with conviction.
"His real name is Joey Austin," Bob said while he opened up his shirt pocket and removed the Wanted fax of Joey. He held out the fax. Howard walked closer and read it.
"I don't believe it," Howard said while he scratched his head in disbelief.
"Where did you drop him off?" Bob asked while he removed his note pad and pen.
Howard thought for a few seconds as he retraced his tracks in his mind. "At the Ridgewood apartment complex in Columbus," Howard remembered.
"Thanks, Howard," Bob said while he jotted that down. He then smiled and shook Howard's hand.
Howard watched Bob as he walked back to his car.
He got inside and started it up.
Bob backed up into Howard's grass and turned around.
He drove down the dirt driveway.
Bob's wife, Lucy, exited from the front door and glanced at Bob's patrol car while he drove and stopped at the end of their driveway. Bob's car parked there.
"What did you do now?" she asked Howard like its something she's asked numerous times in the past.
"Nothing Lucy. I picked up a hitchhiker this morning. A nice kid that looked like a geek. But he's apparently wanted for robbing a bank in Orlando," Bob told her.
Lucy looked upset with Bob. "How many times have I told you? Don't pick up hitchhikers! One day, you'll pick one up, and he'll hack your body into tiny pieces and scatter your parts all over the state of Georgia or Texas or Alabama," Lucy scolded Howard then entered their house.
Howard sat back down in his rocker. He looked troubled as he thought about Joey being a bank robber. There was no way he would believe Joey was the man they said robbed a bank.
Inside Bob's car, he had a listing of phone numbers for the Columbus police department up on his laptop.
He opened up his cell phone and made a call.
"Columbus police department," said a female officer who answered the call.
"I'm trooper, Bob Walker. May I please speak to Chief Tooley?" Bob requested. "One minute," the female replied.
Bob waited at the end of Howard's drive. He knew it would be a matter of hours when Joey Austin the bank robber would end up where he belonged – in jail.
An hour later and darkness fell upon the Columbus area.
Inside her trailer, Kathy and Joey sat on the couch and watched TV while they sipped on a Coors.
If I were you, I would leave in the middle of the night and take the Interstate," Kathy suggested.
Joey nodded in agreement then looked around the apartment.
"Where do I sleep?" he asked.
"In bed with me and by the way, I work as a stripper, and I'm a nudist," Kathy replied with a sexy smile.
Joey got a huge grin as he felt lucky.
"Just kidding. You can sleep on the couch, and I'm a barmaid and always sleep in shorts and a tee-shirt," said Kathy.
Joey looked disappointed, as this seemed to be the story of his life. So close yet so far away when it comes to being with a woman.
Kathy chuckled, while they watch TV.
On TV…
A show started called "We'll Get Ya" and the host appeared in front of a bunch of workers that answered telephones. It was a popular show where criminals on the run are portrayed. They have a high success rate as ninety percent of the criminals displayed on the show are apprehended. Many people across the country watch it with hopes they will see someone they know and turn them in.
The male host, a retired New York detective who did some acting in the movies, addressed the TV audience,
"Welcome to another exciting episode, where if you're a criminal on the run..." All the people on the phones look at the camera. "We'll Get Ya!" all the workers yelled.
"We just got a new case in today," the host said on TV.
On TV, at a screen behind the host, a picture of Joey in his car at the bank drive-thru appeared.
"We have Joey Austin who robbed a Sun Trust bank in Orlando the other day. Mister Austin ran before they could nab him. The Orange County Sheriff's department believed Mister Austin headed up north to avoid capture and time he deserves. Time in jail! So if you've seen Mister Austin, call the Orlando Sheriff's Department at 555-8743," he said.
In the nosey couple's apartment…
They munched on popcorn and drank glasses of lemonade while they watched the "We'll Get Ya" TV show. They even joined the show's fan club and wore their "We Love We'll Get Ya" tee shirts.
She dropped her glass of lemonade when she saw Joey's picture.
"It's him!" she cried out as she pointed at the TV. "He was with Wally's sister," she said as she stood up. "I knew there was something wrong with him," she said while she rushed over to the telephone in the kitchen.
"We finally get to turn in a criminal and get that nice "I Caught a Criminal" tee-shirt!" the nosey man said while he got up and rushed after his wife.
"Hello, I live in Columbus, Georgia and I've seen Joey Austin earlier today," the nosey wife said while she made the phone call with a huge smile.
Back inside Kathy's trailer…
Joey and Kathy sat in shock glued to the TV.
"Oh, my God! I'm on TV!" said Joey in shock.
Joey got up, paced around the living room while he pondered what to do. "I'm dead! I'm going to die in prison!" Joey panicked while he paced around the room.
Kathy watched as Joey paced and got concerned.
On TV…
"Because Joey Austin... "We'll Get Ya!" all the workers at the phone yelled at the direction of the camera.
In Kathy's trailer…
"I hate this show!" Joey said while he paced around the room.
Joey stared at the TV while Kathy wondered he could do now.
Sixteen minutes later, at the Ridgewood Apartment Complex, two Columbus police cars stopped at Wally's apartment.
They jumped out of their cars and rushed up the stairs to Wally's apartment.
At Wally's apartment, one of the officers knocked on Wally's door.
"Joey Austin, it's the Columbus police. Open up," the officer yelled, then knocked on Wally's door again. No response from inside Wally's apartment.
All the officers looked at each other, then nodded in agreement that they need to use force.
They all removed their 9mm revolvers and got ready.
The large officer stepped back and gave Wally's door a hard kick. Wally's door swung open.
The officers rushed into Wally's apartment with their revolvers aimed.
Wally's living room was dark.
One of the officers found the light switch and turned on the lights. The place was empty.
The officers cautiously moved around Wally's living room with their revolvers aimed.
Two officers cautiously moved down the hallway with revolvers aimed.
Two officers entered Wally's bedroom.
One officer opened up the closet and expected Joey to be hidden inside it. No, Wally, just his clothes were inside.
The other officer checked under Wally's bed. Nothing.
"He's not here," the one officer told the other one then they both placed their revolvers back in their holsters.
They left the bedroom.
The two officers walked down the hallway and joined the other two officers in the living room.
"He must have ran," one officer stated.
They all nodded in agreement then left Wally's apartment.
They exited Wally's apartment and closed the door.
But it swung back open. They left it alone.
One of the officers pressed his radio microphone button. "Dispatch, this is unit sixteen, we searched Spencer's apartment, and the Orlando bank robbery suspect was not found," the officer talked into his radio.
"Copy unit sixteen," the dispatcher replied.
The officers headed to the stairs. "Officers," the nosey woman yelled from her apartment door.
The officers turned around and saw Wally's neighbors as they approached them.
"We saw on that TV show, "We'll Get Ya," that an Orlando bank robber was to believed to be here in Columbus. I called the Orlando Sheriff's department to report I saw him earlier today," the nosey woman said.
"We saw him enter Mister Spencer's apartment earlier today," the nosey man said.
"Then we saw him leave with Wally's sister, Kathy Spencer," the nosey woman added proudly that he squealed on a criminal.
The officers all looked interested in what they just heard.
Twenty minutes later, back in Kathy's trailer bedroom, she opened up her dresser and removed a sock.
She reached inside and removed eighty dollars in cash.
She put the cash in her wallet and walked out of her bedroom.
She rushed into her kitchen and opened up a cabinet.
She removed bags of trail mix with nuts, M&M and raisins, couple boxes of Quaker chocolate chip granola bars, packets of peanut butter and cheese crackers. She rushed out of the kitchen with all those snacks in her arms.
She walked out of her trailer with the snacks in hand.
She walked over to her Harley and Sportster parked near the entrance to her trailer.
At the Sportster, Joey had his iPhone clipped to his belt while he placed Wally's video camera into one of the saddlebags.
There were bottles of water, green tea, and Gatorade on the ground by his shoes.
He picked them up and shoved them into the other saddlebag. He smiled when he watched Kathy put those snacks in one of her saddlebags.
"Why did you decide to go along with me?" he asked her.
"The way I figure it, those old nosey neighbors of Wally's probably religiously watched that TV show hoping to catch a wanted criminal. Meaning they saw your picture and I bet they called the police," Kathy said while walked to the front door of her trailer.
She opened the door, reached inside, and grabbed two sleeping bags rolled up.
She walked the sleeping bags over to the Harleys. She threw Joey one of the bags. "Secure it to the rear of your Sportster using that bungee cord," she said.
Joey secured the sleeping bag to the read of his Sportster with the bungee cord.
Kathy walked over to her Harley with the other sleeping bag roll. She secured her sleeping bag to the rear of her Harley with a bungee cord.
She looked at Joey. "Besides, you need someone to watch over you. I'm afraid you'll get hurt out there," Kathy said while she walked up to Joey.
"With that video evidence, we stand a great chance of getting Wally out of prison and keep you out of prison," she said. "So let's ride," she said then smacked Joey's butt cheek.
Joey looked surprised. Kathy smacked him but started to think that maybe there's a slim chance she might like him.
Kathy got on her Harley, wore her helmet, and started it up.
Joey walked over and got on his Sportster, wore his helmet, and started it up.
They drove off down the driveway.
Joey and Kathy drove their Harley's out of her driveway and onto the street.
Joey looked like a biker as they rode off into the darkness of the Columbus night.